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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303787">Give Yourself To The Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher'>Reis_Asher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Drowning, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, MerMay, Near Death Experiences, Sad, Suicide Attempt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:41:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303787</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank has given up on living, and decides to take his own life by drowning in Lake St. Clair. Connor, a merman living in the lake, rescues Hank and tells Hank he's destined to be his mate as one who has given his life to the water. But mating will kill Connor, and Hank refuses to give into the urge, even though in three days and three nights the spell allowing Hank to live underwater will wear off and he'll be forced to return to the world above alone...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Give Yourself To The Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: Suicide attempt, the concept of death after mating (but nobody dies in this fic).</p>
<p>I wanted to write something for MerMay, so here we are! Obviously I've been inspired by all the great work in the zine that I'm still working through. I hope it's not too similar to anything in there. I wanted to go for a kind of mournful, sad energy without being downright tragic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank believed his death would be peaceful, until he experienced dying first-hand. He was surprised how much his body, which had longed for death in every conceivable way, struggled against its inevitable drowning. His limbs flailed in a desperate, floundering attempt to surface, his lungs drawing in breaths that were all water and no air. It felt like breathing fire, this foreign liquid surging into places it wasn't designed to be. He was helpless, completely powerless, and he realized, in that blackest of moments, that he'd made a terrible mistake. Though he couldn't go on living, he didn't want to die.</p>
<p>He was afraid, now he was in the moment. It was taking so much longer than he thought it might, and the suffering was so awful as to be unbearable. He'd known there was no nice way to go out. A gunshot could miss, leaving his face a mess. Carbon monoxide in the garage could fail, and he could wake up trapped in his own body, forever someone else's burden while the courts argued over his quality-of-life and the wisdom of continued care. There was every chance things could go terribly wrong, and so he'd had to sit and think about it beyond fantasizing about the light at the end of the tunnel.</p>
<p>Devising a watertight plan was one thing, but his brain—worn down by grief, depression, and alcohol—could barely grasp getting through each day. <em>Go back to the basics when you're stuck on a case</em>, Jeffrey always said. Drowning had been within his reach. Drive up to the lake, abandon his car, wander into the water until he was too far out to surface easily. He'd never been a good swimmer. It would be a one-way trip for sure. He would wash up a few days later as a bloated corpse, and the DPD would be able to identify him and inform his next-of-kin. </p>
<p>It was tidy, if undignified, but there was no dignity for the living in being left behind, wondering if they'd inflicted the mortal wound. Drowning left enough room for doubt that death by misadventure was entirely possible. Nobody would ever be able to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Hank had taken his own life. His life insurance would pay out to his ex-wife—a compensation payment of sorts for dealing with his bullshit—and everyone else would be able to move on with their lives.</p>
<p>It should have been him in that car and now he would correct the broken narrative. Cole wouldn't come back—there were no deals to be had with the Devil, no dragging his boy out of Heaven—but they'd be together. Cole wouldn't be alone in that place after life.</p>
<p><em>"Daddy's coming, baby." </em>Hank's consciousness began to falter, darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision. He had to hold onto thoughts of Cole. Of what lie ahead, now that the end was so near. There was no coming back from this, he'd made sure of that, but the absence of hope in these final moments was too much. He had to cling to his belief that Cole was waiting for him on the other side. In a heaven with no androids, only humans, and peace—freedom from all the struggles that had defined his existence on Earth.</p>
<p>He closed his eyes like he was going to sleep. It was over, finally. He was comforted by the sensation of arms enveloping him in a comforting embrace. He'd learned years ago that the brain sent out a rush of hormones to comfort the dying, and that this accounted for most near-death experiences people reported. He'd used that factoid over the years as a comfort working homicide, when he'd needed to tell himself the twisted, anguished faces of people lying in pools of their own blood hadn't suffered for long.</p>
<p>Arms, hands, all seemed to be tugging at him. Perhaps a choir of angels was hauling him up to the pearly gates, or maybe he was still alone at the bottom of the lake. It didn't matter.</p>
<p>It was going to be all right.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Hank woke with a start. He couldn't see, and his body was wracked with pain. He was still in the water somehow, and yet he could tell time had passed. How was he still alive?</p>
<p>
  <em>take a breath</em>
</p>
<p>The voice was inside his head and it wasn't his own. It was high on the male range, but soothing. There was something pure about it, and Hank decided to do as the voice said. He breathed water, coughed, and breathed again, wondering if this might hasten his end. Perhaps he was still clinging to life, a desperate survivor even now, and the angels were trying to convince him to give up.</p>
<p>He felt better, somehow, like he'd actually taken a breath of fresh air. It was bizarre, the sensation of bubbles going in through his nose, but he adapted quickly. It tickled, but he wasn't about to stop, not when he was starting to feel better.</p>
<p>
  <em>open your eyes. slowly now.</em>
</p>
<p>Hank's eyes felt like they were stuck closed by sleepy sand after a long nap. It took some effort to pry them open. The water was cold on his eyeballs, but he could see. The bottom of the riverbed was dark, and reeds tickled his body. Trash floated around him alongside fish, which he shied away from like they might try to eat him. He was cold, very cold, and he felt marginally feverish.</p>
<p>
  <em>look to your right.</em>
</p>
<p>Hank looked, and quickly did a double-take. Floating next to him was a—a half-man, half-fish—<em>thing. </em>He tried to scream, but only bubbles came out of his mouth. The creature's hand was on his arm and he shook it off. He had to flee. He flailed, trying to kick his legs, but they seemed to be stuck together. Perhaps they were wrapped in the reeds.</p>
<p>Hank looked down and the sight of a shimmering fish tail in place of his legs was enough to make him scream again. The bubbles poured out of him, and the creature's hand once again closed around his wrist.</p>
<p>
  <em>Don't be afraid. Think your words and speak to me. I am here. I am not your enemy.</em>
</p>
<p><em>What—what are you? </em>Hank thought. <em>What am I?</em></p>
<p>
  <em>I am a creature of the lake—a merman. My name is Connor. As for your predicament—you were claimed by the water. You gave yourself freely and I accepted your life on behalf of the lake. To survive beneath the water, your body had to change. I transformed you, so that you might live.</em>
</p>
<p><em>I didn't want to live! </em>Hank snapped<em>. I was trying to die!</em></p>
<p><em>That may have been your intention, but I saw you struggle. You changed your mind. I chose to save you. </em>The pretty merman swam around him, a sweet smile on his lips. <em>Do you truly wish to die?</em></p>
<p>Hank bowed his head.<em> "I—I don't know. I'm afraid."</em></p>
<p><em>Perhaps you shall be comforted if we go up above. </em>Connor took Hank's hand, leading him upwards. Hank surfaced in a small cavern, gasping for breath.</p>
<p>"Oh, oh, that's better," Hank gasped. "I can use my voice." He pulled himself out of the water and sat on the side, looking down at the grey scales that shone rainbow in the light. A fish tail. He couldn't believe it. This couldn't be real, could it?</p>
<p>Connor gazed at him with big, sad, brown eyes. "You belong to the water for three days and three nights."</p>
<p>"What if I don't want to belong to the water?" Hank gazed sadly at the crack in the cave ceiling, knowing everything he'd known was so near, yet so far. "I wanted to die. I wanted to be with my son. In Heaven."</p>
<p>"Perhaps I was mistaken when I saved you." Connor looked downcast. "I thought perhaps a mate had come my way at last."</p>
<p>"A mate?"</p>
<p>"The law of the merfolk states that we may choose our mates from any human who gives their life to the water. But it is a rare occurrence. The life must be freely given, and the human must still be alive when they enter the water. It has been years since—" Connor paused. "I have never been able to mate. When you fell into the water, I thought you were the one. I must have been mistaken."</p>
<p>"You're a lovely fish—err, boy, but I, uh—I'm not—" Hank shut up, knowing that any words that left his mouth right now would be ugly and without meaning. Connor was handsome—devastatingly so, in fact. If he'd been human, Hank would have given him the eye. But he wasn't, and Hank wasn't sure he could cope with having sex with... Well, a fish. What did fish even do down there? He felt his smooth scales, wondering if he even had genitalia. This was all too weird. Maybe this was some kind of bizarre death dream, the kind people who survived these encounters reported to Weekly World News like it was fact and got side-eyed by the public for it.</p>
<p>"Won't you even give me your name?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"I'm Hank," Hank offered. "Or, I was, anyway. I'm not really sure who I am now."</p>
<p>"You're still Hank," Connor reassured him. "Your form has changed, but your spirit has not."</p>
<p>"What would mating with you even look like?"</p>
<p>"I'd take you home to my nest and we would engage in courting rituals. At the culmination of those rituals, we would mate, and I would bury my eggs in the sand of the beach where you offered yourself up to me. </p>
<p>"I already lost a son," Hank admitted. "I can't do it again, Connor. I can't be a parent."</p>
<p>Connor nodded, the sadness in his eyes only growing until he looked like he might weep. "Merfolk don't raise their young. The eggs hatch and the young find their way to the lake alone, guided by instinct, and grow to maturity before they wait for a mate to give themselves up to the water. Then the cycle begins again."</p>
<p>"What happens to us after all this? You're honestly tellin' me our kids wouldn't seek us out?"</p>
<p>"After the mating ritual is complete, you would return to your human form and go back to the surface. Merfolk can only ever birth one clutch of eggs." Connor paused, and Hank knew he was withholding something.</p>
<p>"Why is that?"</p>
<p>"Mating is the end of a life cycle, Hank. When merfolk lay their eggs, they perish. Their mate, the one who has been reclaimed from the water, returns to land, granted a second chance at life. That's what you want, isn't it? A chance to do things over again. An opportunity to go back to the life you left behind."</p>
<p>"What if I refuse to mate with you?" Hank crossed his arms. "I'm not gonna kill you."</p>
<p>"I must mate, Hank. My species is almost extinct. Besides, the magic I used to transform you won't last forever. We have three days and three nights to perform the courtship rituals and mate, or you shall return to the land. Merfolk mate for life, Hank, and I have claimed you. I cannot choose another."</p>
<p>Hank pouted. The thought of killing this beautiful creature with his seed turned off any ideas he'd had about agreeing to Connor's request. "You just want me to show up, fuck you, and watch you die, then go back to my life like nothin' ever happened?"</p>
<p>"If you don't mate with me, I may never get another chance. Please, Hank. I'm begging you."</p>
<p>Hank shook his head. "No. You saved my life. I won't return the favor by taking yours."</p>
<p>"You will get used to the idea. The legends are true, Hank. My people have lured sailors to shipwreck, drowned thousands, all for a chance to mate. I know you're attracted to me. You'll give in."</p>
<p>"Try me," Hank rasped. "Take me back to your lair, Connor, and you'll see how stubborn an old man can be." Hank jumped back into the rock pool and dragged Connor beneath the water, savoring the sensation of his lungs filling with water once more. He could get used to this merman thing. A shame he didn't get to keep it.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Hank woke on the shore of Lake St. Clair in the darkness, his lungs burning like he'd inhaled acid. He coughed, bringing up water and the contents of his stomach as tears stung his eyes. He breathed air like he didn't know what to do with it, and plucked plant matter from his hair. He noticed scales on his arms, slowly fading, and he knew he had to be imagining things. The lack of oxygen could do things to a human being.</p>
<p>He stood up on shaky legs, shivering. He reached out for the waves, like he'd left something important behind, but he couldn't remember a thing beyond walking into the water with the intention of ending his life. His car stood up on the bluff and he walked towards it, knowing he needed to go to a hospital. He'd failed in his suicide attempt and he should seek help. Call his therapist. Something.</p>
<p>He started to cry as he climbed the sand dunes. Perhaps it was a side-effect of almost drowning, the afterimage of a suicide gone wrong, but he felt like he'd suffered an immense loss. If only he could remember.</p>
<p><em>Arms around him as he died. Fear. A beautiful merman named Connor, who had three days to seduce him. </em>The memories came rushing back in a flood. Had he given in? Had he killed Connor?</p>
<p>Hank raced back to the water's edge. "Connor!" he yelled into the waves. There was no response, only the echo of his own voice and the crashing of the waves. He glanced around the beach, wondering if he might find Connor's body next to a patch of sand filled with eggs, but he did not.</p>
<p>He shook his head. It had to have been a dream, hadn't it? The visions of a man on the verge of death. Merfolk didn't exist.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hank...</em>
</p>
<p>Hank turned around. Out on a rock, waving to him, was Connor. The boy's face was mournful, yet incredibly beautiful. He recalled how difficult it had been to resist the urge to mate, but he had forced himself to hold off for three days and three nights, overriding every urge in his body that longed to join with Connor. The lake had relinquished him, spitting him out like an unwanted intruder as he fought off the spell that brought him into Connor's world.</p>
<p>Connor's voice echoed loud and clear in his mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>You can give yourself to the water as many times as you like, my beloved. When you are ready, return to me. I will be waiting for you...</em>
</p>
<p>Hank projected everything he could back through their connection, feeling it fade as Hank became more human, the scales on his arms turning back to skin.<em> I love you. </em>The words surprised Hank, but he found them to be true. In just three days, Connor had enchanted him. Even now, it took all his strength to tear himself away from the water. He wanted nothing more than to dive back in and mate with Connor, but he refrained.</p>
<p><em>The day will come when you are ready to die. Return to me then, and we shall mate and die together on the sands. Promise me, Hank. Promise me you'll come back... </em>Connor's voice grew fainter, and Hank realized their connection had been severed. He wiped the tears from his eyes, wishing he could live in a world where they could always be together.</p>
<p>"I'll come back," Hank yelled to the lake. "I promise." When he gazed out at the rock again, Connor was gone, leaving only a wet Hank with burning lungs and a yearning so strong his entire body reacted to it.</p>
<p>He would be back. Maybe in a week, a month, or twenty years, but he would come back for Connor, and leave some small part of himself behind in Connor's clutch of precious eggs as they breathed their last together on the sand, their souls given to the water.</p>
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